


You Taste Like an Iced Mocha on a Warm Summer’s Evening

by IgnisFlos



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, alice is a journalist, coffee shop AU, fp owns a coffee shop, i smiled like an idiot when i wrote this, its fluff central
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnisFlos/pseuds/IgnisFlos
Summary: Falice coffee shop au!FP is the new owner of Alice’s favourite coffee local shop.
Relationships: Alice Cooper/FP Jones II
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	You Taste Like an Iced Mocha on a Warm Summer’s Evening

**Author's Note:**

> i wish coffee shop au’s were real

If there’s one thing Alice Cooper hates, it’s waiting in a long queue as she’s about to get her morning coffee. Sure, she could make her own at home - it would certainly save her time and she wouldn’t risk being late for work - but The Serpent’s Brew makes her favourite coffee, and she’s not about to skip out on her daily morning routine.

Finally, the line moved forward. Just by an inch. Now that Alice was closer, she craned her neck a little to see what the holdup was. A big, bulky man at the front of the queue blocked her view, but just as she was about to give up on her little investigation, she heard a voice at the counter she didn’t recognise. Someone new’s been hired, and they’re holding up the queue. Damnit. Alice was sure to be late for work now. She rolled her eyes as the line moved forwards again. Albeit slowly, but it’s making progress. Alice could say it’s been hours, but it’s been more like ten minutes - although, she has always had a flare for the dramatics, and if she told a friend she had, indeed, been waiting in line for hours, who’s to stop her? As the bulky man walked away and out the door with his order (a caramel latte, Alice could smell it) she looked at the counter again. Sure enough, it was someone new. The man had dark hair and eyes, and by comparison to the bulky man, he was tiny: but, as Alice finally came to the front of the queue, she could clearly see that he was at least a head taller than her and he had a somewhat athletic build.

Against her will, Alice felt her eyes wash over him. He was attractive, and from what she heard, he had a nice voice. She should not be thinking like this, because right now she was annoyed at this good looking man who was working so slowly the queue was going out the door. He was like a sloth. She watched as he handed out someone’s order and bid them a good day, and she watched as his shoulders sagged a little when he took a quick glimpse as the queue. He was the only person behind the counter. Strange. The Serpent’s Brew was a small, locally owned coffee shop tucked away from the busy part of the city, but there were always at least two people behind the counter: one taking orders and the other making them. She didn’t spot the owner either, whom she saw often enough, and who knew her order without the need to ask.

The man walked up to her and asked for her order and her name: she asked for a takeaway iced mocha and handed him a blueberry muffin she picked up from the shelves near the counter. Then, with gritted teeth, she said her name, Alice Cooper.

“Are you a regular here?” He asked as he turned to make her order.

“Yes. You’re new.” Alice said. He simply nodded at her and she tapped her nails on the counter as he grabbed a paper takeaway cup and started making her mocha. Within a couple of minutes he was back in front of Alice and handing her an icy cup.

She raised an eyebrow, “where’s the owner?”

“Right in front of you, Ms Cooper.”

Alice’s eyes flicked to the man’s name tag. FP Jones. Manager.

“Oh,” was all she could manage.

As he said goodbye and went on to serve the next person, she smiled a tight lipped smile at him and left the coffee shop to head to work. She’d only be fifteen minutes late, and, really, it was fine because she owned the city’s newspaper and no one would chastise her for showing up late.

The next time she showed up at The Serpent’s Brew was a week later. FP seemed to have things in order this time as there was no queue waiting for her as she entered the small space. Then again, it was well past morning rush hour, and lunch was two hours ago, maybe she missed the queue. The corner of Alice’s lip tilted up as she saw her usual table free and she made a beeline for it. As she set her bag and laptop down on one of the chairs, she looked around and deemed it safe to leave them there and go and order. There was only one other person in the coffee shop and they were reading a book.

FP smiled at her as she stepped up to the counter, “iced mocha?”

She inwardly smiled, finding it cute that he remembered her order, but she shook her head, “no, just a tea today, i’m sitting in,” her eyes followed him as he nodded and turned to get a mug.

“You can go and sit, Ms Cooper, I’ll bring it to you,” FP said.

Alice nodded and walked away before he could ask why she stiffened at the mention of her last name. She noticed the strange look he gave her, and she’s not about to give away personal details to a stranger. When he brought it over, she smiled and stayed silent. FP didn’t speak either. Alice decided to drink the tea as quickly as possible and leave - she could feel the suffocating tension and she didn’t feel like drowning in it. She could write her article at home.

She tried avoiding The Serpent’s Brew, but Alice found herself back there again two weeks later. She made her own coffee at home every morning, she went to different local coffee shops, and she even went to the big ones found all over the city. None of the coffee compared, though.

As FP brought over her tea, she looked up and smiled at him standing there awkwardly. It was obvious he wanted to say something, so she waited.

“You didn’t come here for two weeks, I thought I did something wrong,” he stumbled his words a little but carried on, “wouldn’t want to lose one of my favourite customers.”

Alice shrugged, “I got busy with work, you did nothing,” a white lie wouldn’t do any harm. She lifted her cup and took a sip of the tea, and Alice inwardly cringed when FP noticed the ring around her finger.

“You’re married?”

Now she couldn’t avoid a personal conversation. Lovely.

“I’m getting divorced.” She said quickly.

“Oh,” he looked down, “sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, he’s a scumbag,” she was about to return to typing her article, but her mouth betrayed her and before her brain could catch up, she was talking again, “and call me Alice.”

He smiled, “okay, Alice, call me FP.”

Alice returned the smile, “well, thank you for the tea, FP.”

After a busy month of work and finalising the divorce, Alice stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the closed sign on the door of the coffee shop. It never used to be closed on Sundays, but FP was the owner now and he never had anyone helping him, so she supposed it was normal for him to have a day off. She could feel the disappointment in her chest at not being able to see FP. She rather liked him. Even through their limited interactions, Alice could see that he was a kind person, and she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t find him attractive. Just as she was about to walk away, she saw him pop up from behind the counter. He wouldn’t mind if she popped in, after all, he did say she was one of his favourite customers. She gingerly opened the door and FP looked up at the sound of the little bell; Alice waved a little and walked over to him, mentally preparing herself to get kicked out because The Serpent’s Brew was closed and she stupidly decided to walk in.

“I know you’re closed, but…”

“Don’t worry about it, there’s no other customer I’d rather have walk in,” FP smiled at her and leaned against the counter. He was clean shaven the last time she saw him, but he looked better with stubble. It suited him more.

“So, shall I put your name on the order?” He picked up a pencil.

“Alice Smith this time. No more Cooper.” She said.

Alice felt a weight lift from her shoulders when FP grinned at her. Not having her ex husband’s last name meant she was free to pursue who she wanted without the dreaded feeling of being judged. Maybe if she had taken her ring off Alice wouldn’t have felt that way, but she kept it on to stop people from needlessly flirting with her. The day her ex agreed to get divorced, Alice took the ring off and threw it in the kitchen bin: within an hour of being outside, she got so irritated with being flirted with and asked out on dates, she went back home and fished the damn thing out of the bin.

FP was staring at her, “I thought you’d changed.”

“You act like I’ve dyed my hair and put some contacts in. I’m still that blonde, blue eyed journalist who happens to be your favourite customer,” Alice laughed a little.

He shrugged and started making some coffee, “I meant your attitude, your eyes are brighter. You look happier.”

She definitely felt happier.

Alice hummed in reply and rested her chin in her hand as she watched him. Soon he was back in front of her with a pot of coffee and two mugs. Grinning, FP called out her name and order as if the shop was full of people before setting the coffee down on the counter.

“So, how did you come to own this place?” She asked.

FP sighed, “my dad owned it. We weren’t close. He fired everyone, died, and left it to me, because of course the old man had to try and screw me over even in death.”

“I’m sorry, FP.”

“It’s fine, Alice, really.”

“I take it you don’t like owning a coffee shop, then?” She asked.

“It’s not something I saw myself doing, but it’s worth it because I get to see you.”

Alice felt a warm blush creeping up her neck and she let her eyes flick to his lips. She smiled in reply and sipped her coffee to stop herself from spluttering and saying something stupid. So what if she liked a coffee shop owner she’s met a total of four times? Besides, he didn’t have to know, and neither did anyone else.

By the time they finished the pot of coffee the sun was setting and it was giving the rustic interior of The Serpent’s Brew a hazy pink glow. 

“I should head home, I’ve got an early work meeting tomorrow,” Alice stepped away from the counter, “how much for the pot of coffee?”

FP shook his head and started cleaning up, his back to her, “it’s on me.”

Alice took the opportunity to write her number on a napkin before walking to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re open.”

“See you tomorrow, Alice.”

After a long day of meetings, Alice finally walked through the door of The Serpent’s brew. She sighed contently as the smell of coffee and the sight of a quaint and rustic coffee shop hit her. It was six in the evening, so it was no surprise to find it devoid of customers.

“I would have called, but I had a busy day today,” FP’s voice called her from behind the counter, and Alice looked to the left to see him cleaning up: he was scrubbing the counter particularly hard trying to get a stain. She strolled over and stood opposite him, folding her hands in front of her just as he finished scrubbing the stain. It was a relief, knowing he saved her number to his phone instead of throwing it in the bin. Alice felt some of her anxieties leave, and her confidence for what she was about to ask rose a little.

“Are you free?” She tilted her head to the side a little, “to go for a little evening walk?”

FP smiled at her, “would you like an iced mocha to go with that walk?”

“That sounds lovely.”

He quickly made her order, and himself a latte, before taking his work apron off and stepping around the counter to hand Alice her drink. She smiled in thanks when she took it and when he held the door open for her.

It was a quiet evening in the city, most had left work and gone straight home for a quiet night in, ready to work again tomorrow. Alice and FP walked in a comfortable silence to one of the many parks and sat on a bench facing a fountain. There was a warm breeze tickling their faces and the sounds of the city were quiet in the park. It was peaceful.

“I was living on the Southside of the city before my old man died and left me the coffee shop.” FP said.

Alice looked at him in surprise, “you’re from the Southside?”

FP nodded, “yeah… I figured I’d tell you now. That way you can judge me now rather than later and think I’ve kept some dirty secret from you.”

“Even if I did judge you for it, I’d have no right seeing as I’m from there myself,” Alice offered him a gentle smile and a small shrug.

FP chuckled and looked Alice up and down, “really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

She nodded and sipped her mocha - it was refreshing to feel an icy drink down her throat on a warm summer’s evening, especially sitting next to FP, whom she’s forcing herself not to kiss. Alice hastily looked away from him when she felt her cheeks go hot. Perhaps if she jumped into the fountain she’d stop blushing like a crushing teenager. It’s embarrassing how slowly time passes when one’s got a bright red face. It was mere seconds when she looked at him again (even if it did feel like minutes.)

FP was staring at her.

“what?” She raised an eyebrow.

He shook his cup, signalling that it was empty. Alice gripped her mocha tighter as she finished it. They both stood and faced each other. Date over.

“Would you like me to walk you home?” He held out his arm a little, offering for her to take it

Alice smiled politely and shook her head, “I’ve got to catch the underground home, but thank you for offering. When Alice caught a flicker of disappointment on FP’s face, she regretted her decision, but her smile grew wider when she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, hoping it would make up for her rejection.

FP’s lips were ever so slightly parted, he seemed stunned that she’d kissed his cheek.

But he quickly recovered and stepped closer, “can I kiss you?”

Alice’s answer was simple, she cupped his cheek with her hand, leaned up, and closed the distance between them, placing a soft kiss on his lips - she deepened the kiss as she felt a hand on her hip. FP tasted like a latte mixed with dark chocolate and she wondered if he had put some in his drink. A heat creeped up her neck for the second time and she felt it reach her cheeks.

Slowly, Alice pulled away, her paper cup now crushed in her right hand.

FP let out a breathy laugh, “you taste like an iced mocha on a warm summer’s evening.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
